


Good Cop, Bad Cop AUs

by 247megamania



Category: Layton Brothers: Mystery Room
Genre: it isn't great but at least it exists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29057091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/247megamania/pseuds/247megamania
Summary: Some ways the last case of Layton Brother's: Mystery Room could have gone. Some are worse, some are better. I labeled it Graphic Violence to be safe but I'm not sure it counts.
Kudos: 1





	1. In Which Alfendi is Too Clever for His Own Good

Alfendi Layton had a headache. The muzzle of Diane Makepeace’s gun was pressed up against his forehead, but the source of the pain was much deeper, and it wouldn’t go away.  


“Ooh, my head.”  


She giggled. “Goodbye.”  


A gunshot sounded. Al jumped in his chair, the ropes cutting into his skin as the pressure of the gun disappeared. He wasn’t dead. So who was?  


“Who’s there? Hilda?”  


No answer.  


“I heard your footsteps earlier, didn’t I, when Diane was talking to Lucy. Where is Diane, anyway? Did you shoot her?”  


There was a creak on the stairs across the room. Al squeezed his eyes shut, he couldn’t think with thiS BLASTED HEADACHE -  


Alfendi relaxed his eyes and let his head drop to his chest.  


“Ohhh, yes, you shot her dead, didn’t you Justin.”  


Another creak.  


“Lucky guess,” Lawson answered.  


“Guess? You wound me, old friend. I’d recognize that tread anywhere. You’re here just like you were four years ago.”  


“You have no proof.”  


“Don’t need it now, do I? Of course it’d be you. For all her organizational prowess, there’s no way Hilda could hit Makepeace twice, not in the rain at that distance. But the Met’s sharpshooter, well, that’s another story, isn’t it, Justin?”  


“You’re the one who confessed to it.”  


“That wasn’t me! That was some tepid idiot lazing around in my body, you can’t believe that was me!”  


“Whatever you say, Al.” The voice was closer this time.  


“You did it, you made the deal with Makepeace and shot him, you came back today to silence his daughter. It was you, I was right.”  


“Sure it was. But who’s going to believe you?”  


A cold, hard circle pressed up against the underside of his chin.  


“Justin, you wouldn’t -”  


“Any last words, old friend?”  


Alfendi squeezed his eyes shut again, and took in a breath. “Tell Hilda to look after Kat for me. And tell Lucy - tell Lucy I’m sorry. And I’m proud of her.”  


BLAM!  


...  


Hilda flew up the last flight of stairs. It’d been thirty seconds, by her count, since she’d heard the second gunshot and lost sight of Lucy. Far too much could happen in thirty seconds. She burst through the door, gun in hand.  


“Lucy, are you -”  


“Prof?”  


Lucy stood by Al, who was bound to a chair and clearly unconscious, neck bent as far forward as it would go.  


“Is that Diane on the floor there? Lucy, what’s going -”  


“He’s dead.”  


“What?” Hilda stepped into the room and saw the blood. It dripped from his chin, covering his shirt and jacket, oozing down to his hands, covering the gun they held. Lucy sniffed.  


“I won’t cry.” She sniffed again and rubbed her eyes. “Detective’s aren’t supposed to cry, not on the job, t’Prof would be disappointed - Oh, Hilda!”  


Hilda wrapped her arm around the sobbing figure. She’d be crying herself, if she weren’t steeled and numbed from years on the job. Shrugging off her jacket, Hilda put it around Lucy’s shoulders and pointed to the door.  


“Have a sit on the steps and come back once you're composed. I’m going to conduct an investigation of the scene. Alright?”  


Lucy nodded through her tears and left the room. Hilda surveyed the scene.  


“What a mess…”  


Both Diane and Al held guns, but Diane’s was full, while Al’s was still warm with two shots missing. It was obvious, then, that Al had shot Diane and then himself. There was no one else in the castle who could’ve done it, no other way the scene could’ve played out. The only questions to answer were why and how.  


“Here’s your coat back, Hilda.”  


“What? Oh, thanks.”  


“Can I help with the investigation?” Lucy’s eyes were red, but they held a look of grim determination.  


“Thanks, but I believe I’m just about fin -”  


“Oh, what’s that on the carpet, look!”  


Hilda glanced down. There was a series of spots forming two parallel lines on the floor. In her focus on the bodies, she’d entirely missed them. The two investigators knelt on the rug to get a closer look.  


“Is it... blood?” Lucy asked.  


“No, it’s water. That’s funny, the bodies are bone dry.”  


“It leads to the door, look!” Lucy shot up and ran to the door that led to the rooftop. “Hilda, come see!”  


Footprints. Great, wet footprints all over the steps by the door where they had absolutely no business being. Somehow, an impossible third person had infiltrated the crime scene, just like she’d theorized four years ago.  


Hilda looked back at Al’s body and narrowed her eyes. A deep game was being played here, and she didn’t like it one bit.  


...  


It had been a week. Lucy collapsed into her seat in the mystery room and gazed up at the ceiling. She was exhausted, from grief and from staying up staring at pictures of tiny dots and huge footprints. They were the only leads she had, and they were nothing.  


Hilda kept coming by and telling her to go home and get some rest. But she couldn’t, not when the Prof’s murderer was still out there. Florence and Sniffer were bending over backwards to find her scraps of new evidence to no avail. Dustin stayed up with her, listening to her farfetched theories and refilling her coffee, although after falling asleep three nights in a row she was beginning to suspect he’d switched her to decaf.  


She hadn’t seen Justin yet. He was avoiding her, and she wasn’t sure why.  


The door opened.  


“Hello? Lucy?”  


She leapt out of her seat, almost losing her balance as her vision went black for a moment.  


“Katrielle! I thought Hilda banned you from here!”  


“I wore her down.” Kat’s tired smile was closer to a grimace. “How’ve you been?”  


“Not great. You?”  


Kat didn’t answer, just walked over to the desk and stroked the papers strewn across it.  


“Um… What brings you here, anyway? Is there something I can help you with?”  


“No. But I believe there’s something I can help you with.”  


“There is?”  


“Of course. You’re trying to solve the case, right? So am I.” Kat turned to face her. “I’m going to find the one who killed my brother if it’s the last thing I do.”


	2. In Which Lucy is a Bit Too Quick

“It were Hen!” Lucy shouted to the empty room.  


Diane didn’t answer. Lucy frowned. She knew Diane could see her and hear her, but perhaps she needed to do a bit more to get her attention. The big red button on the desk by the speaker should do the trick.  


As she approached the buzzer, she hesitated. A wrong answer could wind up getting her killed, and something about the case was niggling her. She glanced over the room once more. There, on the coffee table. The ashtray had a cigarette in it! There’s no way Hen put out a smoke in the murder weapon after she did him in. She dug through the security pictures and landed on the true culprit.  


“It were Dog!” She slammed her palm down on the buzzer. Diane appeared on the tiny monitor above the speaker.  


“Well? Solved it already?”  


“You bet I have! It were Dog!”  


“Dog?” She pressed her finger to her chin. “Are you sure?”  


“Sure as anything. The cigarette butt on the ashtray proves it.”  


“You’d better talk to your suspect, then.” In a flash Diane reappeared, dressed as Dog, and acted the role whole heartedly with added snarls. Lucy interrogated with her life on the line, feeling the thrill of the investigation get to her like it did when it was just her and the Prof. When she proved her case, Diane curtsied in her pretty way and gave her a “gift”. The original case file, made by the Prof himself, with evidence clearly removed.  


“What’s the meaning of this, then?” she demanded.  


“Isn’t it obvious? Do not trust Alfendi Layton. That man… He killed Papa.”  


“You don’t know that!”  


As if in answer, the bookcase behind her moved, revealing a hidden door out of the room. She’d be glad enough to get out of here, but she wished she could talk more with Diane, find out what she meant by accusing Alfendi Layton, of all people, of siding with a serial killer. The Prof would never do such a thing. Would he?  


She couldn’t be sure until she saw him again. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped out into the corridor and the darkness beyond.  


…  


There were voices on the other side of the door. She leaned her ear against it, and managed to make out Diane’s voice talking, then a man… T’Prof! She shoved it open.  


“Well, would you look at that? It seems our guest has arrived.” Diane smiled at her, gun pointed straight at the Prof, who sat blindfolded and bound to a chair.  


“Who’s there? Lucy?” His placid side was out at the moment. His voice was strained and tired.  


“Don’t worry Prof, I’ll save you!” She couldn’t see what she could do, though. Diane had a gun to his head and she was stuck by the door with no weapon to speak of.  


“Oh, there will be none of that, DC Baker. You see, this is an execution.”  


“The Prof’s not on death row!”  


“But he should be. Alfendi Layton’s been a bad man, and now he’s going to die for it.”  


Lucy took a deep breath and let it out. Maybe she could talk her way out of this. “If you really think he did all that - collaborating with your dad, destroying evidence and all - then why don’t you leave it to us? We’ll investigate it for you. Bringing people to justice is our job, there’s no need to kill him.”  


“I don’t think I like your version of Justice,” Diane said, finger on chin. “He confessed to killing Papa and all he got was a demotion to a back office. Don’t you find that strange?”  


“Wait, he confessed?”  


“Don’t believe it, Lucy!” The Prof yelled.  


“Potty Prof?”  


“I never confessed! I’m innocent, it’s just that idiot -”  


“Quiet, you.” Diane pushed the gun against his temple and he shut up.  


“Diane, please,” Lucy begged. “Let him go. We’ll get to the truth of it. We always do.”  


“I’m afraid it’s far too late for that. Time to say your farewells.”  


She leveled her gun, the same doll like smile as always plastered on her face.  


“Diane, wait -”  


“Lucy, tell Kat I-”  


BLAM!  


The gunshot rang in Lucy’s ears. Was that really it? Was it over, just like that?  


Movement in the room. Diane was approaching her. Lucy backed through the open doorway.  


“You didn’t even let him finish,” she accused.  


“I do so hate long goodbyes.” Diane seized Lucy’s wrist and yanked her forward, bringing her gun up against the detective’s head. “Now, let’s work on getting out of here, shall we? Hilda will be here any moment.”  


Right on cue, a figure cut in blue and blonde flew up the steps, weapon drawn.  


“Lucy, are you -” She saw the pair and stopped, eyes wide.  


“Oh, don’t mind us, Agent Pertinax. We were just leaving.”  


...  


Diane left her locked in a dusty storeroom in an abandoned factory warehouse. After a few bleak hours, Justin and Hilda found her, and now she was sitting in the mystery room, mulling over the bad news. Diane was gone. The Prof was dead, and from the looks of things, everyone had already decided he was guilty.  


Justin stood by the desk, rifling through the file Diane had given her.  


“Slick job that was, nicking this from the Yard. Wonder when she did it.”  


“Isn’t that beside the point? If Diane is right, Al was a saboteur all along.”  


“I don’t think there’s an ‘if’ to it, Hilda. He even killed Makepeace to hide it.”  


“And now he’s dead himself. Brutal point of irony, to be killed by Makepeace’s own daughter…” Hilda closed her eyes as if pained, pressing her hand against her forehead. Lucy doubted it’d been easy, seeing her old partner dead like that. It hadn’t been easy for her. She still saw him when she closed her eyes.  


“Yeah, well… Bit like poetic justice, when you think about it.”  


“That isn’t justice at all!”Lucy sprang out of her chair. “You all, you’re assuming too much. T’Prof wouldn’t do something like that, not ever!”  


Justin stared at her. Hilda crossed the room and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.  


“Lucy, I know it’s hard. But this really is the only possibility.”  


“You haven’t even considered any other possibilities! He doesn’t even have a motive!”  


“Does he need one?” Justin asked. “I don’t understand why he did half the things he did back then, even when they worked out. The man was an eccentric, and that’s putting it kindly.”  


Hilda’s eyes flashed. “Just because you couldn’t keep up with him doesn’t mean I was in the dark. Everything he did was for a reason. He had a motive, we just need to find it.”  


“No, he didn’t - doesn’t - whatever. He didn’t do it!” Lucy yelled.  


Justin looked at her with tired eyes. Hilda just looked sad.  


“If you can’t be bothered to clear his name, I will!” Furious, she bolted from the room, slamming the door behind her. It was a promise made in the heat of the moment, but it was one she intended to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then Lucy tries to investigate the Puzzle killings, Justin opposes her for obvious reasons, the Commissioner backs her, she cracks the case, etc. Maybe Katrielle gets involved, I don't know.


	3. In Which Diane is Aware of Her Surroundings

“Isn’t it obvious? Do not trust Alfendi Layton. That man… He killed Papa.” Diane cut communications to the room where she was holding Lucy and opened the bookcase door with the press of a button. Time to get ready.  


“I didn’t do it, Diane.” Alfendi Layton yelled at her from his position behind her, tied to a chair. “Can’t you get that through your skull? I was set up!”  


Diane picked up her revolver and checked that it was loaded. “It’s a bit late for that, Inspector. You confessed to it years ago.”  


“That wasn’t me, you halfwit! That was - Ughhhh…”  


Now that was an interesting groan. Her captive clutched at his heart, beads of sweat forming on his face. Looks like someone had a heart condition. She giggled.  


Lightning flashed. At the door leading to the roof, a silhouette sharpened for a moment, a figure in darkness that definitely wasn’t supposed to be there. Diane gripped her gun tighter.  


“It looks like we have an uninvited guest. Come out where I can see you, please, or I might be forced to shoot my hostage. Wouldn’t that be a terrible shame?”  


Nothing happened. Had she just imagined it?  


“Well, then. I’ll give you five more seconds. Five. Four. Three -”  


The sound of cloth on cloth, like someone shifting their stance. Diane grinned. She was right after all.  


“I heard that, you know. Maybe it’s time for a little hide and seek?”  


The figure leapt from their hiding place and fired a shot. It flew past her face and buried into the wall. Instinctively she fired back, hitting their gun arm, then frowned. She knew this man.  


“What the - Justin?” Layton asked. “Have you come to rescue me? Where’s Hilda?”  


“Shut up, Al,” Lawson growled, clutching his arm.  


“Detective, so good of you to join us. Perhaps you’d be so kind as to explain how you got on the roof from four stories up?” She kept her gun trained on him, mind whirling. If Lawson could be here, now, could he have been here four years ago when her father was murdered?  


“I’ve got nothing to say to you, Diane.” He shifted his gun to his other hand and raised it, finger on trigger.  


She shot him thrice. Chest, shoulder, forehead, and down he toppled. He was going to make such a mess on the floorboards. Papa would be proud.  


“Did you really have to kill him?” Layton asked, mournfully gazing at his friend's corpse.  


“Of course I did. He’s the one who really killed Papa.” She twirled around to face Layton and curtsied. “It seems I owe you an apology. You’re innocent. I’m sorry for tying you up here.”  


“What do you mean, Diane? I’m guilty.”  


She tilted her head. “That’s not what you were saying two minutes ago.”  


“What, you believe that hothead? I killed Keelan Makepeace. I remember it like it was yesterday. I shot your father in the side and in the head, and then he died. It was me.”  


“Then why was Justin trying to kill me just now?”  


“I don’t know.” He wrinkled his brow. “That is quite a puzzle, isn’t it.”  


“And the answer is that he’s the one who really killed Papa, and he came back today to kill me. There, I solved it for you, all nice and tidy.”  


“Well, I suppose that’s one possibility, but I can’t believe Justin would -.”  


The door flew open and Diane fled to the roof, Hilda hot on her heels. Lucy, stunned, looked from Al, to Justin, and back to Al.  


“Prof. What happened here? Is that… Is that Justin?”  


“I’ll explain, Lucy, but would you mind untying me first?”  


“Oh, of course.”  


Hilda came back just as Lucy finished.  


"She got away?” he asked, standing up and rubbing the marks out of his arms.  


“Zipline off the roof. You’re okay, Al?”  


“Better than Lawson, at any rate.” Thunder rumbled and he glanced outside. “My, it’s raining quite hard, isn’t it? Brings me back...”  


“Well, come back to the present, Prof. Justin is dead!”  


“Oh. Right.”  


Hilda knelt by the body. “Diane’s doing, I presume. Why Justin...” She trailed off, voice and eyes softening.  


“He took four bullets before he fell. It’s odd, though, he came in acting very strangely.”  


“How so?”  


“He fired at Diane without giving a warning, and he missed.”  


“Ee, that’s not like Justin at all.”  


“Not to mention he shouldn’t be here,” Hilda rose from the floor. “We got here first, he was supposed to stay behind and organize backup. He couldn’t have climbed the tower before us.”  


“He didn’t. He entered from the roof staircase.”  


“What? Al, that’s impossible.”  


“Nevertheless, that’s what happened. Quite the mystery, wouldn’t you say, Lucy?”  


“It’s a mystery, alright.” Lucy’s shoulders drooped. “Poor Justin. He didn’t deserve this.”  


“No, he didn’t.” Hilda made her way over to the pair. “That just means we need to redouble our efforts to catch his killer. Al, we need to get a manhunt started for Diane Makepeace as soon as possible, but there’s no reception here to speak of and I can’t leave the crime scene unguarded. I don’t suppose you…”  


“You’re going to ask me to drive, aren’t you.”  


“Just back to the station. I don’t know how much Justin told the commissioner, I need to be sure there’s help coming.”  


“You know I don’t drive anymore, Hilda. Can’t Lucy do it?”  


“What? I can’t leave the scene of action at a time like this!”  


Hilda rubbed her temples. “Lucy, please, as a special request from me, drive this idiot back to the station and make sure he stays there until I can question him. Nothing else is going to happen here. Diane’s gone.”  


Lucy folded her arms. “Fine. Let’s go, Prof.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then... I'm not sure. They'll definitely look into the Jigsaw Puzzle killings again, and they'll probably crack it all they way and clear Alfendi's name in regards to Keelan Makepeace's murder, so that's good.


	4. In Which Hilda Does Her Job

With one final leap, Justin landed on the West tower rooftop. He wasn’t as limber as he used to be, and he’d almost slipped on the way over. He shook his head and rolled his shoulders back, then crept down the staircase. He needed to find Diane.  
Well, he found her. She was standing smack in the middle of the next room, gun in hand, with Al right next to her, all tied up. He could shoot her from this angle easy. Problem was…  


“Diane, drop your weapon at once!”  


He was too late. Hilda and Lucy were already here.  


Diane raised her revolver and Hilda fired. The bullet caught Makepeace in her right shoulder, forcing her to misfire into the wall. Clutching her shoulder, she turned and ran for the roof, but Lucy tackled her before she could make it to the door.  


It looked like they had things covered. Silent as a snake, he slipped back up the stairs and across the ledge to safety.  


...  


“Is there anything else, Lucy?” Hilda asked.  


Lucy shook her head. The crew were back in the mystery room after securing Diane in the hospital. Lucy had just finished explaining about the file she’d been given and what the missing evidence meant, and now she looked over at the Prof, willing him to deny all charges, to set everything out clear and simple like he used to.  


He didn’t speak. Instead, Justin took the file from her and flipped it open.  


“I see. So this is what Diane was rambling about in the car.” He slapped it down on the table. “Well, Al? You’ve been accused of being a crook. What have you got to say for yourself?”  


“I certainly don’t remember removing any evidence. And I would never collude with a killer like Makepeace, Justin, you know that.”  


Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. The Prof came through.  


“Words alone are hardly enough to prove your innocence, Al,” Hilda said. “Remember, you were the one who killed Makepeace. This would give you a perfect motive, which is something we’ve never been able to find before.”  


Al shook his head. “I don’t know what to say to that. I’ve told you I don’t know why I did it.”  


Lucy’s jaw dropped. “Prof, you don’t mean -”  


“I confessed? Of course I did. I shot Keelan Makepeace.”  


“But why?” This was not what she wanted to hear. “You must have had a good reason, Prof, I know it!”  


“Of course I didn’t.” A slow grin spread across his face. “Because I didn’t do it, you NUMBSKULLS!” He slammed his fist down on the file. “I don’t care what that wretched part of me confessed to, it wasn’t me! And before you ask, the sabotage wasn’t me either. This is the first I’ve heard of any deal with Makepeace, and when I find the one responsible for messing with my investigation -”  


“Ee, cool down a bit, Prof!” This change was the most sudden she’d ever seen. And no criminal to be seen here, either.  


“Al.” Hilda whispered, staring at him like she was hypnotized. “Al, you’re back.”  


“What do you mean, Hilda?” Lucy asked.  


“Nothing.” She straightened up, hands on hips. “It looks like we’ll have to open an investigation into the investigation of the Jigsaw Puzzle Killings. My, this is getting complicated.”  


“If you think this is complicated, Pertinax, you should’ve quit your job a long time ago,” Al said.  


“And you should go into abstract art, for all your unnecessary convolutions.”  


“Well maybe you should become a kindergarten teacher!”  


“Alright, alright, let’s not start this again,” Justin interrupted. “Look, Hilda, I see where you’re coming from, but I don’t think we need to open an investigation. Makepeace is dead. It’s over. There’s no sense in dredging up the past to chase after what ifs.”  


“But the evidence is missing!” Lucy said.  


"It probably just fell out somewhere in the mess Al calls a filing system.”  


“Diane said -”  


“I don’t care what Diane said! She’s a killer, remember?”  


“Killers don’t always lie,” a familiar voice called from the doorway. “You should know that by now, Lawson.”  


“Commissioner Barton,” Hilda said. Everyone stood a bit straighter as he walked into the room, except for Al, who sat down in his customary chair behind the desk.  


“I’m glad to see you all safe."  


“It were a bit of a close thing, Commissioner.”  


“I can see that, DC Baker.” He nodded at her jacket. She looked down at the bloodstain left from Diane’s bullet wound and winced.  


“Is she alright, do you think?”  


“Diane? Yes, I believe she’ll recover well in time for her trial. I was just at the hospital talking to her, in fact, and I must say that my thoughts lie with you, Lucy.” His piercing gaze traveled to Justin. “We must open an investigation immediately into the events of four years ago.”  


“Fine,” Justin said. “I can organize -”  


“No, no. I’m afraid a fair, legitimate investigation requires that none of the concerned parties can have a hand in it. Fortunately we have a bright new inspector on staff who can do the job nicely.”  


Al shot out his seat. “Tell me you didn’t get that simpering, pathetic - uggghh…” He clutched at his chest and sank back down.  


“Prof?”  


“I’m fine, Lucy, sorry. Commissioner, please tell us about the investigator you chose.”  


“Is that my cue?” In walked a young man with blonde hair, white glasses and a cream colored coat. He wore his detective badge proudly on the front of his chest. “DCI Blaine Dartwright, at your service.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And drama ensues! Lucy will find a way onto the case, I'm sure, so Dartwright and Baker will work side by side to clear Alfendi's name, and there's nothing he can do about it. Meanwhile, what will Justin get up to? He's only going to get more desperate, after all...


End file.
